Elective Surgery
by briroch
Summary: A short story dealing with fears, phobias and childhood trauma. Why do Steve and Mike hate hospitals as much as they do?


_**A/N: This story was originally written as a "get well soon gift" for my dear friend Dublin Writer. She wanted to share her present with all of you. **_

**_Disclaimer_**_: __I do not own the characters, I only use them for fun, never for profit, unless you call nice feedback a profit!_

_**Last, but not least- Thank you to my wonderful Beta Reader Tanith! Much appreciated...**_

_**Elective Surgery**_

Mike Stone entered the hospital, feeling relaxed and in good spirits. He was carrying a paper bag with newspapers and magazines, but had resisted the temptation to add an ice lolly to his selection of gifts.

How many times had he entered this place before, his heart heavy with worry? But this time was different. The procedure was merely routine, wasn't it? He was here not because he was worried, not at all, he was here for a different reason. When he was listening to the news on the radio while drinking his first cup of coffee of the morning, he had heard about a big pile up on the bridge and assumed that all the hospitals would be needed to deal with these emergencies. So elective surgery might be postponed because all available operating theatres would be busy and Steve at this stage might be getting impatient and querulous.

Mike knew only too well how bad Steve was when it came to hospitals and he had rung the Captain immediately, telling him he'd stop at the hospital for a few hours and would let him know when he would be at work. Rudy had waved his concerns aside and told him to stay as long as he was needed and not to worry about time. He also knew how protective Mike was of his younger partner.

Mike made his way towards the station where he had left Steve the night before, grumbling impatiently, but basically well. He stopped the first nurse he got a hold of, a face he recognised from the night before.

"I was just wondering where I'll find Steve Keller? Is he in his room or is he being prepped for surgery?"

His blood ran cold when he saw the expression on the young nurse's face. "Oh… I'm so sorry but he is gone…"

Mike felt faint and the nurse must have noticed him turning pale as a ghost. "I meant he's gone as in gone away." She grabbed Mike's elbow and guided him towards a chair. "I didn't mean to scare you, sir, I'm so sorry."

Mike was beginning to come back to his senses and he took a deep breath. "Stop apologising and tell me what happened?" he urged, although he had a fair idea what had happened. The story the nurse told him confirmed his suspicion. Steve had been told early in the morning that his surgery would be delayed until much later in the day. When the nurse returned a little while later with another sedative to keep the patient comfortable, Steve had disappeared.

"I'm a detective. Just let me see his room, I might find a clue and maybe I can find him. Tell me, when his surgery is scheduled for, in case I can get him back in time?"

After Mike cast one quick look over Steve's room and noted that the young man's overnight bag was gone, he didn't waste any more time looking around the hospital but headed straight for the most likely place that Steve could be holed up in.

Steve opened the door after the third angry knock, the very moment Mike inserted the spare keys he had for Steve's apartment into the lock.

Steve stepped out of Mike's way, avoiding his eyes. He turned away and busied himself fiddling with his overnight bag.

"How about, good morning Mike and nice of you to drop in?" Mike suggested.

Steve shrugged his shoulders. "How did you get here so fast?"

"I'm a detective, remember? When I heard of the pile up this morning I assumed that your surgery would be delayed and came to keep you company. Obviously I wasn't fast enough to keep you from absconding, but at least I caught you before you legged it for Tahoe." He pointed at the pile of warm jumpers and thermal underwear on the table, ready to go into the bag. The pile of pyjamas and other suitable hospital wear lay discarded on the sofa.

Again, no reaction from Steve. Mike felt his pent up emotions reaching boiling point. He had come here with the firm resolution not to yell, to be gentle and understanding and non-accusatory, but he felt this resolution was melting like Tahoe snow in the San Francisco sun.

"Did you know you scared me senseless when the nurse told me you were _gone_?" He could keep his tone at a decent level, but there was enough venom in it to make Steve look up.

"Sorry Mike," But the apology sounded lame, even in his own ears.

"Oh, you're sorry, that's nice. Rather than being sorry, would you stop and think before you do something stupid and would you ever consider others and how they feel, for a change?" Mike's volume had risen a considerable amount of decibels and he checked himself. Something in Steve's expression told him that he had hit home, maybe more so than he had planned on.

"Oh come on now, buddy boy. I didn't mean to yell at you, I really didn't, but I had to let off some steam, I was worried, you know." Mike grabbed the younger man by the neck and shook him affectionately by way of an apology. He felt the tenseness in the muscles and felt even more sorry for losing his cool. Didn't he know only too well how bad Steve was around hospitals and doctors?

"How about we start again? Come on!" He nudged Steve playfully in the ribs in an attempt to defuse the situation.

"Knock, knock! It's Mike, can I come in?"

Despite himself Steve had to smile. "Sure Mike, how nice of you to drop by."

"That's my boy!" Mike ruffled Steve's hair, and then he moved some stacks of clothes from the sofa to make enough room for him and Steve to sit down.

"I'm really sorry I didn't get to the hospital in time to catch you."

"S'alright," Steve mumbled and sat down with Mike. "Not your fault I messed up."

"Don't be so hard on yourself; you're not the first person to get cold feet in a hospital."

"Cold feet?" Steve snorted. "It was more like a full blown panic attack."

"Yeah, and so what? If you had hung on for another five minutes, the nurse would have come back with a tranquilizer."

"You tipped her off about my hospital phobia, didn't you?" Steve asked glumly.

"No, I didn't," Mike protested. "Most people are rather anxious about having surgery." He chuckled, "Name me one person who doesn't mind being in a hospital and I'll show you a person with a problem." The older man was delighted to see a smile on Steve's face.

"You know me, and you know that I am bad with hospitals, too…" Mike hesitated for a bit. "Hospitals remind me of Helen dying. For years the smell of disinfectant brought all the emotions back." Mike watched his friend for a reaction. "Silly, or what?"

Steve didn't reply but Mike could tell that he was processing the information.

"Now that I told you about my beef with hospitals, do you think any less of me?" He probed, determined to get to the bottom of Steve's fears at last.

"Of course not!" Steve protested. "That makes perfect sense to me."

"Maybe your fear makes sense to me as well?" Mike tried.

Steve eyed him with some suspicion and then sighed. He knew his partner only too well. Now that Mike Stone was on his case he wouldn't let up until he had a full confession. And from previous experience he knew that he would soon crumble like a shortbread cookie under the infamous Stone Glare.

"Okay, but don't laugh!" he warned.

"Have I ever laughed when you opened up and shared the secrets of your heart with me?" Mike pretended to be hurt.

"Well, maybe once or twice," Steve reminded him with a grin.

"Perhaps, but circumstances were different then. Try me."

"It's just that it happened so long ago, it seems almost ridiculous to be dwelling on it."

"As I said, try me!"

So, eventually Steve started his story. "When I was a kid I had a constant case of the sniffles and eventually, I got some treatment for it. Turned out the cure was worse than the disease, but never mind." Steve fell silent again.

. Mike glanced at his watch and felt confident that he could listen to Steve's story without rushing him and still have him back in hospital on time. "What was the cure, buddy boy? Something unpleasant?" he probed after a while.

"Yeah, you could call it unpleasant. I had my sinuses drained and rinsed several times. You know, the doctor goes through the cartilage with a thick needle and then they pump a saline solution through."

Mike winced at the thought. "How old were you?"

"Around six or seven, I guess."

"Now, that's enough to turn a kid against doctors for life."

"Yep, I suppose so," Steve said flatly.

"Was it sore?" Mike asked after a while. He had the distinct impression that he had only gotten the tip of the ice berg.

"Kinda sore, yes, but not too bad with a local anesthetic. But without…"

"What do you mean, without anesthetic? They wouldn't do that to a little kid without numbing it somehow?" Mike was outraged at the mere thought of it.

"Normally they would, but one time they must have forgotten about me sitting in the waiting room and by the time they remembered me, the anesthetic must have worn off and they couldn't give me another one I guess, or maybe they didn't have the time to do it again."

Mike was appalled at what he had heard. "Well, I hope you yelled the place down and bit and scratched."

Steve shook his head.

"Now wait a minute, where was your mom? You surely weren't there on your own."

"Aw no, she always came with me, but she found it so distressing, I couldn't even wince or she'd get upset."

Mike began to understand a little more on what made Steve tick and he deeply regretted accusing Steve of not thinking about others earlier on. He reached out and put his arm around his shoulders.

"I can understand how your mom must've felt, but you were still entitled to raising the roof. You were a little kid and shouldn't have held back."

Mike recalled all the times when Jeannie was hurt or sick, when he and Helen had to put on a brave face for her sake and be there to support and comfort her, and not to expect the poor kid to be brave for their sake.

"My momma wasn't all that well herself. I'm sure she tried her best." Steve must have guessed what was going through Mike's head and he felt the need to defend and protect his mother even now.

Mike tightened the grip on Steve's shoulders. "I'm sure she did." He decided to leave further interrogation into the state of health of Steve's deceased mother for another day. After all, he wanted to give his friend a pep talk to get him back into hospital and not to upset him any further.

"All I can say is that medicine has moved on a bit in the last twenty years, and bear in mind, my boy, I'm gonna be with you and make sure the anesthetic is gonna work this time, or you'll hear me yelling the house down!"

Steve smiled weakly. Yes, he could surely imagine Mike just doing that.

"And what about the promise you made before I agreed to have the surgery done?"

"Which of the many promises are you talking about? The one about being there when you wake up? The one about bringing you all the ice cream you can eat? Or was it the one about smuggling you into my place while Jeannie spoils you with soft food and more ice cream until you are fully recovered?"

Steve started laughing. "I wasn't aware I extracted so many promises from you, but I meant your promise not to fuss…"

"Yelling the place down is not fussing, it's caring. And as I am caring, I'd better get you back to the hospital in time for your surgery. Now, take the skiing gear out of the bag and put the pyjamas back in. Your tonsils time in your throat is numbered, come on now, move it!"


End file.
